


Sight Unseen

by Tchailenova



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Even if you think he's trash, Everyone Loves Tsuna, Gen, Introspection, Tags Are Hard, The Varia - Freeform, Viper as an advocate is frankly terrifying, Viper is a Mist Master, Viper is also really disappointed in Vongola High Command, Viper's backup plans are daunting, What's the tag for "i used to hate you but now you're just alright"?, Xanxus has such pretty rage, Xanxus secretly cares, don't underestimate, enemies to frienemies, i love flame lore, now with plot!, the tsuna effect, they've got contingencies behind plans within plans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tchailenova/pseuds/Tchailenova
Summary: During the Vongola Ring Conflict, Squalo spends a lot of time studying their opponents. He notices something about Tsuna and thinks, "Oh, wait... Maybe this little annoyance is actually alright." Even though he isn't actively trying to do anything, Tsuna continues to counter his opponents' initial reactions of disgust and hatred. Upsetting their expectations left and right, and generally being a cute 'n fluffy snag in Xanxus' plans for the Vongola Empire. First to fall under his unwitting charm are the Varia, but that's definitely not where it ends.Squalo thinks Tsuna should probably come with his own Warning Tag.





	1. Squalo sees Tsuna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SableDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SableDreamer/gifts).



> I'm giving this story (my first in this fandom) to my darling Co-Conspirator who hooked me on this amazing universe.

Looking down at the arena now, Superbi Squalo would not have guessed how his opinion could have changed. He remembered his first impression of the _other heir_ as being quite similar to what other people might have thought when presented with a particularly unpleasant bit of roadkill. Unfortunate, disgusting, pitiful, and just a smidgen of ‘got what you deserved for being so weak.’

He remembers his wrath when he’d heard the unfair and stupid decision passed down from on high, from the _Ninth_. He remembers the fluid rage that flowed through his limbs when he decided to follow Xanxus, even though it meant going against the _word of Vongola High Command_. This other heir was a pathetic, civilian, _scrap_ of a boy, no better suited to leading a Mafia Family than he was to serving as a foot-soldier.

He’d heard the whispers from CEDEF, of a wimpy unprepared _soft_ mind, unsuited to the sharpness of necessity. They spoke of unworthy trash that had somehow been elevated above his cousin’s rightful birthright. Above Xanxus; who had been wronged too deeply to think of. Who was bound and determined to earn, by force, what he’d been promised was his by blood.

Squalo rallied and refocused, using his time as an observer to his leader’s best benefit. He wasn’t the best watcher in their group, but his eyes were keen and his impressions were remarkably accurate. So, while everyone else was caught up in the staged battles for the rings, Squalo fixed his gaze on Xanxus’ rival.

A pathetic rival by all reckoning, to be sure, not even worth as much as Xanxus’ little finger. And yet, something drew him in. Squalo’s loyalties were secure, there was nothing that could change who he’d resonated with. They were such a good fit besides.

And yet.

Squalo watched the other heir wince and cringe and _feel_ for his chosen guardians, and wanted to mock him for his weakness.

He was struck, then, by the intense outpouring of power and sheer, _towering_ , presence rolling of the little heir. Squalo could not have denied the child’s worth anymore even if he’d tried, but lying to himself was something he’d set aside long ago. So, the other heir was powerful. So what? That boy wasn’t better suited to the position than Xanxus, and he certainly wasn’t better able to defend Vongola from its many enemies.

Squalo was sure the other heir could be even _more_ powerful, if only he’d let go of his weaknesses and stop letting his ‘ _friends_ ’ drag him down by keeping his heart open to distractions. Then, perhaps the little heir would be a worthy rival to Xanxus’ bid for the inheritance.

As the iron towers crumpled around the arena for the Lightning Ring Battle, Squalo hoped that the little heir’s power didn’t only come when he needed to protect someone. Power like that was unpredictable, unreliable, and untrainable. What use is anything like that if it can’t be used in a show of force? Ultimately, if his power was only as deep as it needed to be to protect others, it would never be enough to defend the Vongola Empire.

Squalo watched with satisfaction as the complete Sky Ring sat on Xanxus’ finger, where it belonged. The little heir wasn’t worthy of the ring, or even being called Xanxus’ rival, but Squalo couldn’t deny the whispered allure of roaring potential that roiled within the little heir’s soul. He felt it keenly, blazing at the edges of his senses. The little heir didn’t have enough, not yet.

But, maybe someday, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have ideas for these two (and those around them) that will be implemented in further chapters (people asked for more, and they have received!). These plans will end up with a relationship a little closer to the original prompt for this adventure, rather than the lukewarm "maybe you're not awful" feelings they have right now.
> 
> The original prompt was: "write a story where your MC falls for the antagonist." That seemed a little contrived and boring, so I reversed the traditional "good guy/bad guy" roles, widened the scope a bit, and gave you this instead. I hope you enjoy it!


	2. Xanxus' Disdain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s official! This story is no longer a one-shot. You have two darling reviewers to thank for this, as well as my own (very insistent) muse. No dialogue in this one either, but at least we get some insight to Xanxus! I’m really loving my exploration of the Varia and all their broken, beautiful, potential.

Xanxus had been watching his guardians closely. He always did, of course, as they often presented him with unexpected new perspectives. Squalo in particular was his best – his favorite, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone – the one who Xanxus could count on to see the important things that Xanxus himself had missed.

So when Squalo narrowed his focus onto the trash brat, Xanxus bit his tongue against the outpouring of incredulous derision, and waited. Surely the little trash wouldn’t be worth any amount of consideration his impossibly sharp Rain Guardian could waste on him. But Squalo’s focus didn’t waver, and Xanxus began to watch the brat, too.

He was curious, of course, not at all really interested in whatever small value the squishy civilian might have. Xanxus only wanted to know what had drawn his friend’s attention.

There were whispers that this piece of trash was his cousin. Or, rather, would have been near enough if Xanxus was truly the son of the Ninth. He felt rage bubble and froth through his veins at the thought and didn’t bother to reign in his wrathful aura. Those around him stiffened minutely, and he hated that, but he was mollified when his opponents across the arena visibly cringed and wavered under his oppressive aura.

Something in the little brat’s gaze hardened though, and he called out encouragement to his friends. The clear young voice was a thin sound in the din of fighting, but those around him straightened and added their voices to his. The brat’s champion in the arena rallied and held his ground under the heavy onslaught.

Xanxus sneered at the display, and privately marveled at the effect his trash cousin was able to affect in his guardians. He was still a civilian, and a weak worthless excuse of an heir _far_ from being worthy of inheriting a Mafia Family. There was something there, though, in the thin aura that just barely reached past the arena, just barely close enough for Xanxus to brush up against it. He poked at it curiously in the privacy of his own mind, and had to fight to keep the emotions from showing on his face when he realized what it was he’d felt so fleetingly.

 _Naiveté,_ he thought with disdainful bitterness. More kindly, he could admit that the boy’s lack of duplicity and sheer straightforwardness was endearing. It would get him and his friends _killed_ , Xanxus thought venomously, but it was nice enough. He’d had precious little opportunities to feel auras like that in his experiences with the underworld.

He could tell, painfully easily, how much the little trash treasured his friends. He didn’t want to be here, definitely wasn’t interested in inheriting the Family, but here he was anyway: worrying over his friends in the mortal battles they’d been forced into by fate and Xanxus’ machinations. Showing his emotions and his weaknesses on his sleeve, his little trash cousin wouldn’t last through the year in the life he was being thrown into.

Xanxus briefly wondered if he could teach his cousin a lesson about duplicity and self-preservation before shoving that thought firmly out of his mind. He wasn’t the brat’s cousin anyway, no matter how loudly the family values he’d been raised with shouted at him to take the little brat under his wing and show him how to survive.

 _I cut my ties with the family anyway_ , he told himself, a touch of rage slipping back into his aura, _even if nobody else knows. Vongola Nono cast me out, so I will win back the throne he denied me and raze them from the inside out until nothing but a smoking husk is left behind._

The completed Sky Ring on his finger sent a thrill of sensation down his arm and brought his focus back to the battle taking place in the school before him just as a series of explosions rocked the building. He felt the little trash’s aura snap and fizzle with undisguised worry and untamed power. It was the nature of that power, so raw and wild, that drew Xanxus’ eyebrows down into disturbed contemplation. The sky flames he felt on the edges of his awareness were unfettered, and Xanxus frowned darkly at the implications.

Even as Belphegor’s victory was announced and the blade prince was extracted from the rubble, Xanxus scowled. _So much power,_ he thought to himself with an indefinable ache, _and clearly untrained, even for his age. It should not be like this. He might be civilian trash, weak and unworthy of succession, but those flames should be far more refined and controlled given how old he is and the sheer amount he clearly has access to._

Those thoughts continued to circle in his mind even as he snapped out orders and let his simmering wrath be felt – a reassurance to his guardians that he was just as powerful and in control as before, and pleased with the results of the proceedings even if he was still pissed the succession battles had to take place at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m curious what you think of all this! Questions, Comments, Requests? Let me know! Ask and ye shall receive ^_~*


	3. A Driving Rain Falls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see a little reference to a Manga-exclusive event. If you have questions or need explanation, feel free to leave it in a review! This chapter also features the perspectives of two characters and a bit more dialogue. You may also mark this chapter as the shift to a plot-driven story, rather than a loosely connected string of introspection scenes.
> 
> Please also note the change in rating from "General Audiences" to "Teen and Up" to reflect the addition of canon-typical violence and cursing, as well as some canon atypical reflections on death.
> 
> Woo! Look at me, branching out to conquer my dreams, hehe.

 

When the tide of the battle turned against Squalo, Xanxus was hard-pressed to keep his emotions in check. The little trash’s friend was proving to be more entertainment than Xanxus would have  _ ever  _ expected. He was impressed at how long the young swordsman had held his own against Squalo, but it wouldn’t do Xanxus any good to show how easily he was swayed. He had an image to maintain, and it was usually a simple and enjoyable effort to keep everyone around him on their toes.

At the beginning of the round, he had barely been able to feel the flickers of rain flames coming out of the arena and knew Squalo was holding back against the child. Xanxus would never accuse the man of holding back in swordsmanship, but he knew from personal experience that Squalo could tap into his flames as naturally as breathing, and present a much more  _ troublesome _ resistance with them.

Blue flames washed up against Xanxus’ awareness then, in two clashing hues, and he watched – frozen in shock – as the younger swordsman outmaneuvered Squalo to defeat him. He was surprised and impressed, not to mention quite intrigued at the show of skill from the as yet untested guardian.

Irritating softness aside, Xanxus was coming to grudgingly respect this young rain guardian. He knew Squalo would not lose easily. Even though he was fighting a child, his pride as a swordsman would not allow it. There was a final surge of fierce blue flames against Xanxus’ aura, and that had been all the proof he needed on the matter. Privately, Xanxus was pleased the child hadn’t killed Squalo, even though he knew Squalo would  _ definitely not _ agree with him on that point. Xanxus would have dearly missed his friend had he been killed in such a foolish arena, even if he’d die before he admitted that.

Unbidden, a memory of Squalo swearing not to cut his hair until their plan was completed swept into Xanxus’ mind. Squalo’s youthful arrogance and surety practically blinded Xanxus, buoyed as he was by his recent acceptance into the Varia and subsequent defeat of the Blade Emperor.  _ But all of that was  _ **_before_ ** , Xanxus acknowledged with a sickeningly sharp spike of wrath. It leached into his aura before he could reign it in, and he chuckled darkly at the turn of events.

Squalo had been so proud before, but to be defeated by a  _ child _ when they were so  _ close _ . It would have been hilarious if it weren’t absolutely sad. Xanxus laughed at him anyway.

“Such  _ trash _ !” He said between laughter and downturned lips. “You lost,” he taunted Squalo, feeling an indefinable tangle of emotions sweep out of him and into his derisive laughter, “How pathetic!”

“You’re worthless to me,” he declared lowly, raising his hand to carry out his unspoken threat.

As expected, his guardians hurried to offer their services in eradicating Squalo. But Xanxus was conflicted. He didn’t really want Squalo dead  _ or  _ removed from his service. His frown deepened as he scowled. The Varia wasn’t a place for soft or weak individuals, so what was keeping him from carrying out the threat he’d leveled against them at the beginning of this conflict?

Interrupting unapologetically, one of the Cervello referees stepped in and forbade them from entering the building.  _ A terrible sea beast _ ? Xanxus wondered at her words, unimpressed. There was little from the sea that was small enough to fit in their cage and still dangerous enough to threaten Squalo, even with the injuries from his recent defeat. That boy had been unaccountably naive, but at least it meant Squalo wasn’t entirely defenseless now.

Stubbornly, the young swordsman proved his weakness as he gathered Squalo up and made to help him escape. Xanxus stifled a snort of amused laughter. Squalo would never allow such a rescue, would  _ never  _ live it down. Sure enough, he drop-kicked the boy onto a crumbled pillar and met the shark head-on. Xanxus sent his Rain Guardian a thread of low amusement and was satisfied to receive Squalo’s sharp retort through his flames. He’d be fine. The relief from that realization suffused his entire being.

Realizing he’d need to put on a show to keep the others from suspecting anything, Xanxus channeled his relief into cold mocking laughter. “What a joke! A fitting end for fish bait like him,” Xanxus guffawed and let his amusement ripple freely into the flames that wrapped invisibly around his body, “He’s definitely a piece of garbage.”

He laughed for a while more, enjoying the disgust and dismay he felt from the little brat and his friends. Their flames were all still so weak and untrained, but in their shock their emotions were dreadfully easy to interpret. Their lack of control would have been absolutely  _ shameful  _ if they hadn’t been civilians two weeks prior. “One link to the past down,” he muttered to himself, endlessly pleased.

* * *

 

Takeshi couldn’t quite believe what had happened.

He’d naively thought that he was no stranger to death, but witnessing the death of his – he wasn’t even sure  _ what _ to call Squalo after their duel – had shocked him deeply. Takeshi didn’t  _ welcome _ death of course, not after the  _ understanding _ \- so recent it still felt like yesterday - that Tsuna had helped him reach, but part of duelling with live blades meant being prepared to die.

He knew facing off against his opponent, a battle-hardened swordsman, with mercy in his heart was a calculated risk. Takeshi was sure Squalo wouldn’t offer him the same kindness. Maybe it was arrogance or maybe some combination of naivete and foolishness that stayed his hand and flipped the sword so he always struck with the spine and never the live edge, but it had all worked out in the end. He’d exhausted himself wresting a bloodless victory, a heavy weight lifting off his heart when he realized he’d somehow managed to keep anyone from dying in this exchange that seemed fated to end in severe injury or death. He’d succeeded. Until that shark had come along and  _ eaten _ his opponent right in front of his eyes.

Well, it hadn’t been  _ right _ in front of him, but he knew well enough what the outcome had to be. He wasn’t that much of an idiot. Takeshi couldn’t even spare a thought to the monitors or whoever else might have been watching from outside, he was reeling too hard from the surprise and bone-deep regret to think anything of fellow witnesses.

He’d really started to like Squalo, too, which further complicated the mess of emotions he could feel bubbling just beneath a thin layer of shock. They’d barely exchanged a full minute of conversation, but through their traded strikes and blows and lightning-quick strategic clashes, Takeshi felt as though he knew more about Squalo than he’d ever be able to learn through words alone.

Takeshi had thought he’d been ready to face his own death, if it came to that, but he  _ hadn’t  _ been willing to see his opponent dead - and certainly not by Takeshi’s blade. Some things just can’t be prepared for, and death is one of those things.

_ I watched him die _ , he realized numbly, through a haze of disbelief,  _ I didn’t even do anything about it _ . His thoughts drifted and started spinning wildly just beyond his reach.

Dimly, Takeshi knew it was only a matter of time before he broke down under the weight of  _ something _ that dangled above him, damocles-like. There was a very real threat still there beneath the water, and so he focused his attention inward. Takeshi catalogued his thoughts and emotions as they swept past him messily, not even bothering to register meaning, just acknowledging their presence in an effort to collect himself. He could deal with it all properly later, but first he needed to get away from the shark.

There wasn’t anything he could do about Squalo, except remember his pride as a swordsman and honor him in death, and getting eaten by a shark wouldn’t satisfy either of those things. He lifted himself to his feet and jumped to higher ground just before one of the terribly impersonal referees grabbed his elbow and practically flew him out of the building.

Takeshi wasn’t sure what happened after that, and maybe it was some residual adrenaline blurring the passage of time, but he was suddenly standing next to Tsuna as the Cervello announced the next round participants.

Beneath the chatter of his friends as they walked home, Tsuna leaned close and whispered fervently, “It’s not your fault.”

Takeshi realized quite abruptly that the  _ something _ that had been threatening to crush him earlier was guilt. The weight of Tsuna’s words and the sincerity with which he spoke them forced the weight off his heart with unexpected effectiveness. He breathed out a low laugh, completely devoid of humor, trying to breathe in calm and exhale distress as he accepted Tsuna’s firm declaration, “Yeah.” He almost believed himself.

Tsuna nudged him with his shoulder, looking up at Takeshi with big worried amber eyes, and Takeshi felt something like his usual calm settle into place around his shoulders. He nodded in thanks to Tsuna, and they shared an understanding glance in silence. It seemed Tsuna was still determined to keep the guilt of death off of Takeshi’s heart.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! I accidentally spilled some feels all over this chapter. I should have expected it, given these events, but I’ll be there for you in the comments section with plushies and shock blankets if you need ‘em. ♥
> 
> As before, if you have any questions, comments, or requests, please leave them for me. Ask and ye shall receive!


	4. A Snake Stalks its Prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this chapter! Here we see the inner monologue of Mammon/Viper, as requested by a lovely reviewer on FFnet. Initially it wasn’t supposed to be this long, but Viper held me down and forced me to write it all out. I have to say, the gender ambiguity will be fun once we get to address it directly, but until then it’s just difficult to write around.

Viper was very patient. The Mist Master had always been willing to wait for the moment that would yield that best return on pending investments. Whether the reward was meant to be in loyalty or efficiency or money, awareness of the single best-point-in-time for capitalizing on opportunities hovered in bright illumination in Viper’s mindscape. This was no accident, of course. It was the result of an entire lifetime spent as a reward-oriented individual. Viper would hate to miss the opportune moment due to ignorance, after all.

So when Squalo had been attacked by the shark, Viper’s illusions immediately slipped into place, fooling everyone present that Xanxus’ Rain Guardian had been drug under and eaten alive. This allowed Squalo to stun the beast and make his secret escape.

Even those foolish Cervello had been tricked, though the whole stage was an illusion of their own mist-user’s making. The referees were here through Xanxus’ machinations, just as everyone else was, but the Cervello remained ruthlessly unbiased. They would not have kept the secret of Squalo’s escape, even if the Vongola Nono himself had given the order. And so, Squalo melted into the shadows of the schoolyard and slipped away, unseen by all.

It wasn’t cowardice. He didn’t have a single cowardly cell in his body, but it _was_ one of the contingencies they had put into place after extensive planning. He had another role to play now, and it required a freedom of movement that only the illusion of death could offer.

Viper was rather proud, actually, having been the one to suggest this particular course of action. The disturbed expression on the brat swordsman’s face only reinforced Xanxus’ vehement claim that nobody else deserved to inherit Vongola. Viper was aware that Xanxus intended to immediately turn around and destroy Vongola so utterly it would be unrecognizable, and this was entirely okay with the Mist Master.

All of Xanxus’ guardians knew, in fact. They’d been waiting to complete the plan they had set into motion so many years ago. It felt _good_ to be working on it together again. There’d even been plenty of time to refine their intricate schemes to the n th degree, unlike last time, and Viper was confident that they would succeed. There would be no interruptions from Vongola Nono or the High Command, not this time.

As the brat swordsman was retrieved by the Cervello, looking more than a little wet and wrung out, Viper turned calculating eyes on the brat heir himself. The other heir who had been thrown in front of Xanxus’ bid for power, like a lamb to the altar. A pathetic, and reckless, attempt by Vongola High Command to stop his wrathful ascent and save the Vongola Empire from him.

Viper snorted, unimpressed, _If they are willing to throw children away as sacrifices, in a vain attempt to avoid what’s coming for them, then they are even_ more _pathetic than I thought; not even worth mourning in their inevitable end_. And it would come, Viper was sure of that. Even if it took ten more years of careful planning and shadow-ops.

 _Speaking of children_ , Viper mused, _Xanxus has been unusually preoccupied with watching that other heir._ Casting a frown his way, Viper leveled a wordless inquiry at Xanxus, who then snorted and turned his head away, acting as though he hadn’t been watching anything interesting. Viper knew their leader better than that, though, and wasn’t at all surprised when Xanxus’ gaze settled on the boy again. He was looking at him like he might stare down their next target, trying to suss out his habits and weaknesses, but there was no killing intent or malice in his gaze, and that confused Viper.

More to the point, being unable to readily anticipate Xanxus’ whims made Viper feel quite disconcerted. Knowing what Xanxus wanted ahead of time usually gave the Mist Master some much-needed time to sort out an elaborate and foolproof plan for them to execute. It also granted plenty of time to save any potential sources of profitable return, whatever they might be. It was good business, and a Mist Guardian’s _duty_ besides, to accurately guess their Sky’s wishes.

 _Ah well, if I can’t figure out_ why _he’s looking at the boy, the least I can do is know him at least as well as the Boss does._

With that in mind, Viper approached Xanxus. “Boss,” Viper whispered so they wouldn’t be overheard.

Xanxus grunted.

“I’m going to do some recon, I’ll be back late.”

Xanxus’ only response was to shrug dismissively and say, “I’m not paying you extra,” but he didn’t bother denying the request from his Mist Guardian.

Even though Viper’s match was the following day, Xanxus knew his guardian’s abilities quite well. He knew better than to think the Mist Master needed a last-minute day to prepare, or that the mist-user needed to be coddled – despite the baby-like form all Arcobaleno had been cursed into. For that matter, Viper hadn’t even requested permission anyway, treating the whole thing like a low-level Varia mission.

It was exactly that, in a way, and just as simple. Viper could probably pull off recon tonight and the battle tomorrow mostly-asleep. That didn’t mean the opposing mist-user could expect Viper to pull any punches tomorrow night. The other heir and his guardians needed to be taught a lesson, and the Vongola Elite along with them, that the Varia and Xanxus’ guardians were _not_ to be underestimated. Viper scoffed again in disdain, _Throwing_ children _at the problem will never yield any favorable results._

Slipping into the darkness, using illusions to completely disappear, Viper shadowed the mark.

The short boy was near the back of the tight-knit group, walking with his swordsman.

The young Rain Guardian was obviously rattled, and it was easy to guess why. Viper’s illusion suggesting Squalo’s death had clearly disturbed the schoolchildren. And who could blame them? Viper was exceedingly good at illusion-craft, and these young little things, barely out of the cradle, had never seen death quite so intimately.

“Yamamoto, please don’t blame yourself,” the little one urged pleadingly, quietly enough to escape the notice of their friends.

The swordsman, Yamamoto, gave him a smile that Viper was quite familiar with. “I’m fine, Tsuna, don’t worry about me.”

By the expression on his face, little Tsuna didn’t believe Yamamoto any more than Viper did. They walked on in silence, Tsuna casually nudging the taller boy’s arm at somewhat regular intervals. The older boy seemed surprised every time, so it was clear he kept getting lost in his own thoughts.

Viper followed them into a residential area, to a house marked ‘Sawada,’ and they all settled in the parlor. Viper hadn’t expected them to have a sleep-over, but almost immediately realized it made a lot of sense in a Famiglia-mentality sort of way, however unexpected it was to have _civilian children_ thinking that way.

 _Keep the Family close in times of stress and adversity, huh?_ Viper felt a spike of wonder at the realization that these children seemed to be playing Mafia rather well, even if they couldn’t possibly comprehend the real stakes and pressures of the game – as it ought to be for children. The Mist Master mused silently, _this Ring Conflict is definitely a source of tension for these kids, even if Yamamoto_ was _able to draw out an unlikely win against Squalo._

Squalo would never throw a match, Viper was absolutely certain of that, so it had been deeply shocking when this little slip of a swordsman bested one of the Varia’s best fighters. The probability of this result had been miniscule, but it had happened anyway. Viper was relieved they had come up with a profitable contingency plan.

Viper continued to watch the children from the window, behind an illusion that even Reborn couldn’t sense. They eventually laid futons out on the floor and claimed them one-by-one; Tsuna and Yamamoto getting inexorably shuffled to the middle of the group. Even though Yamamoto kept subtly acting like he’d rather be alone, the smile he finally gave Tsuna just before the lights went out looked much more sincere than the one Viper had seen him wearing before.

 _They’re just kids,_ Viper frowned fiercely, _they’re got some good instincts for taking care of each other, but they’re much too young to be drawn into the world of the Mafia, especially one that doesn’t need them. Most_ Especially _not right before Xanxus exacts his vengeance from Vongola,_ Viper mused with dark humor.

 _These civilians aren’t suited to the hard life that would await them as puppets of Vongola High Command, even if several of them have shown outstanding potential_. Glittering eyes landed on Tsuna inquisitively, _I wonder what everyone sees in you, little heir. What_ is _it that draws them all in?_

 _Who knows how much of a head start Xanxus has for understanding Tsuna. I'll need all the observation time I can get just to catch up._  With that thought, Viper hid in the foliage of a nearby tree and smiled slyly.  _Watching them tomorrow morning should prove worthwhile, as long as they don't realize they're being surveyed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look forward to next chapter! It comes from the perspective of one of my favorite characters, and I’ve been looking forward to writing it for a while! Three guesses, and the first two don’t count ^_~*
> 
> What did you think of Viper’s inner voice? I’m not sure I’d change it or anything, but I’m still curious what you think of it.


	5. Morning Sun Burns away the Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this was meant to be the next ring battle, told from a different set of perspectives, but Viper and plot slipped in and made their home here, and a bit of silliness snuck its way in too, while I wasn’t looking and things were escaping the #Plan. I’m not quite sorry, except for the fact that it took me a little longer than I would’ve wanted to get this posted for you. My dear friend and darling beta has been quite under the weather this past week so I took some extra time to comb through it myself, to get it up to my usual standards. That’s enough excuses from me for now, I think :P
> 
> Have a little dose of action with your regularly scheduled introspection this time ^_~* I had a lot of fun cooking up Reborn’s special brand of mayhem for this installation, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

For Viper, the next morning dawned with the crack of a gun and the usual successive screaming chaos. The Arcobaleno took a moment to confirm that the boy’s house wasn’t under attack and also that Viper’s carefully-chosen hiding spot hadn’t been compromised. Glancing into the house revealed Tsuna’s living room to be the source of mayhem.

This morning was turning out to be much more exciting than the Mist Master had been expecting, though Viper should have known better than to underestimate Reborn’s penchant for using unapologetic mayhem. Reborn’s methods were an effective morale-booster. It was hard to worry about any bigger problems when he surrounded his target so thoroughly with loud and dangerous distractions (even though they were, ultimately, only _mostly_ lethal).

The scene in Tsuna’s living room this morning had Reborn’s signature _all_ over it.

As Viper watched from the safety of the tree, amusement stole over the Arcobaleno’s stoic face. For once, the mist user was close enough to appreciate Reborn’s antics without having to worry about becoming a target. The Mist Master settled in to watch, taking this golden opportunity as due payment for having suffered countless similar scenarios under Reborn’s sadisticly talented hand.

With the wisdom borne of first-hand experience, Viper guessed that Reborn had rigged an elaborate alarm system of water and fireworks to go off in short intervals, waking the children quite thoroughly. Their concerns about the Ring Conflict and Squalo’s ‘death’ were sure to be thoroughly banished in favor of the utter madness that faced them this morning.

Tsuna’s still-bandaged Sun Guardian was making quite a scene of himself, running around the room with wordless shouts that Viper could hear even through the windows and across the garden. He also managed to run through a number of suspiciously well-timed waterfalls, and was soon thoroughly drenched. Viper wouldn’t have been surprised if Reborn had rigged a few buckets with a remote control trigger system, for just this purpose.

A silver head of hair popped up with wide eyes scanning the room frantically for the threat. _Storm Guardian Gokudera_ , Viper identified him after a moment, and recalled the way the Storm battle had ended. _This probably counts as a traumatic experience_ , Viper realized with a sort of detached amusement. _If he can’t handle this_ , the Mist Master thought firmly, _he isn’t worthy to stand beside the Vongola Decimo as Storm Guardian anyway._

Almost in perfect timing with that thought, the silver haired boy stood and added his own shouts to the cacophony. Viper was surprised to hear, “Stay down, Jyuudaime! Let me handle this!”

Viper didn’t miss the way Reborn’s smirk widened, nor the handful of firework rockets that immediately sailed toward Gokudera’s head.

Oddly, there was only one person in the room who seemed remarkably unfazed by the chaos surrounding him. The Rain Guardian; Viper had expected him to be the most unsettled by the morning’s frenetic chaos, given the previous night’s events. Viper watched as the young swordsman sat up, his eyes narrowed in a careful survey of the room. Yamamoto’s face twisted in momentary confusion and then he dissolved into laughter.

Viper had never seen anyone react to Reborn’s surprise attacks with laughter before, and the mist user guessed that the boy must be laughing in relieved hysteria. The next few seconds were packed with quite a few telling reactions, and the mist user greedily soaked up the information.

Tsuna sat up, understandably overwhelmed with the mayhem, completely ignoring Gokudera’s warning. His eyes were widened frantically in his search for where the noises were coming from. Gokudera was shouting in panic as Tsuna stood, trying to get him to lay back down (“where it’s _safe_ , Jyuudaime!”), and a bucket of water came splashing down on Tsuna’s sleep-spiked hair.

The boy screeched, which had the interesting effect of immediately pulling the attention of everyone in the room. The Sun Guardian kept running around the room, looking for the firework launchers, but his gaze snapped around as he sought the source of the shriek. Gokudera paused in his own search for threats, his gaze pinned to the crouching figure that Tsuna had curled himself into.

Yamamoto reached out and curled a hand around Tsuna’s shoulder, shaking him gently. His lips moved, and though Viper couldn’t read them well in profile, their calming effect on Tsuna was as clear as the rising sun.

In the sudden peace that followed, the Mist Master was momentarily dumbstruck by the the sense that Viper had somehow caught an ideal exchange between a Sky and properly harmonized Guardians; regardless of the fact that they were all children. Something in the mist user’s chest ached at that, just beneath the chained pacifier. Rallying quickly, Viper sucked in a deep steadying breath to firmly banish those distracting thoughts of _yearning and could’ve been_ , focusing instead on _what is and must be_.

 _I still don’t know why, little sky heir,_ Viper considered Tsuna sharply _, but somewhere inside you is great potential._ Unbidden, Viper’s thoughts turned melancholy, _If only you hadn’t been born and raised as a civilian. Were this a different sort of situation, you could have become quite the fitting leader._

 _But this is not that_ , hard eyes narrowed on the boy as Viper continued _, and Vongola High Command have wronged too many under them to stay in power any longer. They must be made to pay reparations in turn for what they have wrought, and that time has been too long in coming._

Slipping from the tree unseen, Viper made his way back to their headquarters with much more to consider than the mist user could have expected. The harmonization bonds between those children had been all too easy for Viper to spot. Even if the connections themselves were young and undeveloped, they were undeniable. This realization put a lot more weight to Tsuna’s worthiness to challenge Xanxus’ claim. Only a leader with fully realized bonds could really claim the rings, but any Sky with a group of reasonably powerful flame-active friends could enter the challenge and make the true heir prove themselves.

With a suddenness not unlike getting dowsed with a bucket of water, Viper wondered what relation the Sawada family even _had_ to Vongola. _The brat’s father is head of the CEDEF, of course, but what makes him so special as to warrant the attention of Vongola High Command?_

There had been whispers that the boy was another heir, but Viper was sure those were just a company-spread cover story, meant to grant Tsuna the legitimacy he needed to challenge Xanxus’ inheritance claim despite his youth. Before, Viper had assumed that Tsuna was _only_ there as a puppet (and he most certainly _was_ ), but now the Mist Master wondered if there weren’t _more_ motives being hidden in the shadows.

Purple eyes glittered as Viper pulled out a small device and commanded, “Get me everything there is on Iemitsu Sawada’s connection to Vongola.”

 _I’ll find your secrets, Iemitsu Sawada,_ Viper vowed privately, _and you’ll probably wish you’d never let Vongola High Command hear even a_ whisper _of your son’s name by the time I’m through._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Viper is quickly becoming one of my favorites to write with, even as troublesome as the perspective gets with the exclusion of clearly-identifying (and inherently gendered) pronouns. I would use a neuter set for the ease of it, but I have #Plans that make me hesitant to show my hand too soon.
> 
> As always, please feel free to leave me questions, comments, or suggestions! Ask and ye shall receive! (Unless my answer would amount to being spoilery, but then: who would ask such things anyway?)


	6. A Mist Approaches from Afar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally spilled my Reborn feels all over the place with this one, and I’m not even sorry about it. I meant to give you Mukuro’s perspective, but I needed to ease into it a little bit, so I gave you this instead. It’s almost a compromise ^_~* I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Months ago, Reborn had looked between the powerful mist user and Tsuna and had seen an incredible potential lying in wait. It had been written in Mukuro’s not-quite-furious gaze when they scoured Tsuna’s defiantly protective stance. It had been the ghost of softness in Tsuna’s amber gaze when the fight had been over and the mist-user’s story had been drawn out into the light. The full measure of Tsuna’s judgement and naivety had considered Mukuro, and Reborn had watched as Tsuna pulled back in mercy.

There wasn’t anything Tsuna could have done to change that day’s immediate results, but Mukuro had seen the boy’s sympathy (unspoken and unmoving though it had been).

At first, Reborn had been extremely wary. He was sure that Mukuro would be targeting Tsuna, either for the slight against the man’s pride for daring to offer sympathy, for knowing so much of the man’s sordid past, or even for showing such awful weakness in the face of a horribly dangerous enemy. He kept his ear to the ground, listening for any rumors that might, even vaguely, be connected to the imprisoned mist user.

That it was the Vindice who held him captive was a considerable relief to the paranoid Arcobaleno.

Until, of course, there were rumors that suggested Mukuro had escaped a mere two weeks into his confinement.

Reborn had spent the next week absolutely plastered to Tsuna’s side, waving off the suspicious children and distracting them with cleverly planted bursts of mayhem. When the worst report that came to him spoke of curiosity and a cautious-something watching from the shadows, Reborn started to relax a little. The reports continued in the same way for months, with insistent assurances from the Vindice to all the major players of the underworld that Mukuro was still completely secure in their custody, and that any rumors to the contrary were to be disregarded.

Then, months later, against all the plans Reborn had been carefully laying, the Vongola Rings made their way to Tsuna. It was years too early, and the other challenger was Xanxus; was _Varia_ . In those few days, Reborn often worried about the foolishness of sending a group of untrained _children_ to fight in death matches against an elite team of what was arguably the underworld’s most secretly-accomplished assassin group. He would have kept worrying, but Reborn was strong, and _better_ than a weakling who would writhe in despair and fret over things that couldn’t be changed. So he accelerated his other plans and gathered Tsuna’s other guardians close.

Most of them were fairly easy choices, and quite formidable prospects in their own rights. Despite Reborn’s extensive searching, the Mist Guardian position remained unfilled.

It was a matter of days before Reborn was approached, by an astral projection in a dream, and informed in no uncertain terms that the baby hitman was _‘absolutely forbidden’_ to give Mukuro’s position to anyone else. Mukuro’s parting words in that dream had been a scathing declaration, “There’s no one else worthy of the position, anyway.”

Reborn wanted very much to lie to himself when he decided not to pick another Mist Guardian. He wanted to tell himself that Mukuro had been right, that there were no other worthy candidates. It wasn’t _exactly_ incorrect, but it definitely wasn’t the reason why Reborn hadn’t made a move to pick another Guardian. He hadn’t thrived in the bloodthirsty underworld for so long by lying to himself, though. He knew, in a vague barely-acknowledged sort of way, that Mukuro’s claim hadn’t been empty posturing.

He didn’t lie to himself, but he _did_ allow himself the very-occasional instance of selective obliviousness.

Willful ignorance in this case was dangerous. Especially with a proven serial killer in the mix. Regardless, Reborn stayed his hand and held his tongue. The instinct that guided him now was the same that had stirred in Reborn when he’d looked at Yamamoto and seen a natural-born hitman and the rain user’s unbelievable growth potential.

Now (after the dream-vision from a terribly powerful mist user, with a demand that had felt more like someone claiming a rightful position than someone grabbing at unreachable stars), Reborn reconsidered what he knew of Mukuro and Tsuna and how those pieces fit together. A thrill of adrenaline spiked through his veins and a sly smile crept across his lips.

The prospect of what he was considering now was terrifying and exciting, and Reborn did not have even a single moment of regret. Not for the godforsaken task he’d been sent on half a year ago, not for the impact that would ripple and reverberate far beyond his influence, and certainly not for his silence or his decision to call off the search for a replacement.

Tsuna was capable of much more than anyone had ever given him credit for before, and Reborn _needed_ to see it fulfilled in the same sort of way he _needed_ to breathe. Reborn was quickly learning not to be caught off-guard when his student did something impossible. It should have been no surprise that he’d formed the beginnings of a guardian bond with Mukuro in the minutes following that frightfully tense battle, when absolutely _nobody_ had been expecting it.

When Reborn had recovered from the shock of his realization, all he could feel was an impossibly bright _pride_ , burning in his chest just beneath his pacifier.

Now, faced with his student’s worry, it was all he could do to resist smirking. Instead he plastered a smug grin on his face and assured Tsuna that his Guardian would definitely be there. Secretly, Reborn smirked to know that he had been there for a while, watching from the shadows.

Seeking to distract his student, Reborn shot past his ear, “If you have time to worry about that, you have time to climb this mountain, useless-Tsuna.”

Predictably, Tsuna flailed and tripped over his own ankles. Reborn forced himself to laugh, though it had long ago lost any tinge of humor for him. The reminder of what had been done to Tsuna made Reborn’s laughter turn to ashes in his mouth, as usual, but being angry about the seal wouldn’t help his student overcome the hurdle that had been placed before him.

He’d planned on having years to draw out Tsuna’s full potential.

Reborn could only hope that Tsuna would continue his habit of improving exponentially to meet his challenges head-on. Reborn had no idea how or why Tsuna kept managing to rise to the occasion, but he was starting to really believe in the kid. Even a hitman as jaded as Reborn wasn’t immune to that kind of overwhelming kindness and power.

Not for the first time, and probably not for the last, Reborn hoped against hope that this trial wouldn’t break Tsuna.

Reborn knew naivety and softness and mercy were things that a Mafia Boss couldn’t afford to indulge in, but he still felt like it would break him to see Tsuna become cynical like himself. _He’s still a child, after all_ , Reborn thought to himself even as he resolutely ignored that dangerous part of himself that wanted to protect Tsuna from the harsh realities of the underworld.

The Arcobaleno knew it was the process of surviving and overcoming those unpleasant truths that would forge him into a truly _fantastic_ leader. _If I have to use those ugly realities to make him improve faster so he doesn’t die before he can come into his own, there’s really no other path for me to take._ Reborn nodded grimly, decision made, _I just have to make sure it doesn’t twist or break him, first._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know how you like my characterization of Reborn (and how crazy-observant he is). I thought it might be nice to see things from the perspective of one who plans - and plans everything way in advance - and has enough pieces of the puzzle to make it fun for y’all to read.
> 
> Some quick announcements.  
> First: I’m going to rework the first chapter so it flows a little smoother and fits the style of the later chapters a little bit better. I like the content of it, but it’s too stylistically divergent for my tastes. I’m telling you so I can invite comments/suggestions regarding that, but also to warn you that it’s going to happen.
> 
> Second, a little warning regarding the next update:  
> I live in the predicted path of an oncoming hurricane. I’m not expecting danger to me or mine from flooding or winds, but I may be at the mercy of downed power-lines (and thus without internet or computer). As such, the next installation may well be delayed. I will return, but it’s too soon to predict the long-term effects. If it gets really bad I might have to send up smoke signals (but I think I’ll probably get a boat to higher ground before it comes to that).
> 
> TL;DR 1::  
> The first chapter will get a facelift soon because the style doesn’t match the rest of the story. Once it happens, you’ll be notified in the following update’s chapter notes.
> 
> TL;DR 2::  
> I am at the mercy of an upcoming weather system and updates may therefore be delayed. Hopefully the update schedule won’t be delayed more than a few days, but I’d hate for people to think I’d dropped this story.
> 
> Anyway. As always, please feel free to leave me questions, comments, or suggestions! Ask and ye shall receive.


	7. Inherited Duty and Focus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I’m terribly sorry for making you wait so long for this chapter. Secondly, I’d like to thank each of you who offered wishes and hopes of my safety and quick return. Third, I give my infinite gratitude to my beta and bff who was my source of canon/fanon knowledge and made this chapter possible (and who is an excellent theory-crafting buddy, as well).

Tucked away in a well-organized corner of their borrowed manor and armed with a carafe of fresh Italian-roast coffee, Viper pored over the files and memos that had been gathered on Iemitsu and forwarded to the Mist Master. It wasn’t a complete collection, as some of the pertinent files only existed in hard-copy in Vongola’s Headquarters - in Italy. Regardless, a surprisingly thorough record had been gathered on the Sawada family’s presence in Japan - and their connection to the Vongola Family. It had taken most of the day just to sift through and separate the relevant pieces of information from the excess data most bureaucracies insisted on documenting.

Seeking an answer to why a predominantly (and proudly) Japanese family had such strong ties to Vongola, the Mist dug through various document collections and stumbled across an unexpected bit of family history. Viper had guessed at Iemitsu’s roots in Japan, given the family name and his Japanese wife, but hadn’t expected multiple generations of this Japanese family to be connected with Vongola in some way.

As the image of Iemitsu’s early life slowly came into focus, it became clear that the head of CEDEF’s connection to Vongola ran deeper than a simple ruffian making a big name for himself. Sawada’s parents _also_ had ties to Vongola, and though neither were as highly ranked as Iemitsu himself, they had both served the Vongola Family from an early age. That lineage of loyalty went a long way to explaining why a foreigner had been allowed to take up such a high position so early in his life in the first place.

It made sense for that tradition to continue on with the youngest member of the Sawada family. They were a highly predictable and loyal family in that way, but that still didn’t explain _why_ young Tsunayoshi had been inserted into the Inheritance Battles. Some no-name adolescent from halfway around the world had _no standing_ to challenge a rightful heir. If the boy had been older and more formidable, Viper would be more willing to believe he’d been added as an actual challenge against whom Xanxus could have been tested and proven his skills. As it stood, it was a waste of their time at best, and an insult at worst.

Beginning to suspect some kind of conspiracy, Viper pulled up a travel log from Vongola records, and filtered the results for Japan, to see if anyone else had ever gone on a trip to visit Iemitsu or his family. If there was any evidence of favoritism, the first hints of it would show up in vacation time and trips made on personal time.

To Viper’s deep surprise, it didn’t take much time to find evidence of friendship between the two Vongola leaders. This wasn’t unheard of, as the syndicate would run better when the CEDEF was on good terms with the Family Head. Still, Viper dug deeper for more concrete evidence. One such trip record indicated that Iemitsu and Timoteo had been in Japan at the same time. Japan was a large place, and so the Mist user took the time to track it down even further. Surprisingly, their flight details hadn’t been concealed under very many layers, and it only took a few minutes to confirm that their trips had overlapped just enough that both of them had been in Namimori on the same day 8 years ago.

Namimori _wasn’t_ that large, and if they had both been here, it was very likely they had crossed paths on purpose. Viper didn’t believe in coincidences. However, a mere friendship wouldn’t be enough to explain why Iemitsu’s son was being inserted into the mix. Suspecting something more meaningful, the Intelligence Specialist made a note of that trip and dug deeper into Iemitsu’s connection with Timoteo Vongola.

The next discovery nearly had Viper sputtering in shock. Luckily, the Mist Master had better control of their reactions, and was able to reel in the disbelief into undisturbed silence. There, buried in a pile of meaningless routine exchanges, lay a smoking gun. It was a contract, between the Vongola Nono and Reborn, with a third-party-inclusion clause with Iemitsu’s signature. The contract itself had been sealed and filed in hard copy at headquarters, but Viper could connect the dots well enough without seeing the particulars. It certainly explained why Reborn had been hovering around, which probably _should_ have been Viper’s first clue that something deeper was going on.

It was no secret that Reborn was Timoteo’s favorite and most trusted, for all that the hitman was technically unaffiliated with the Famiglia. Reborn’s specialty lay in assassinations and training, as Dino’s legendary transformation could attest to. Reborn hadn’t killed Tsuna yet, and that only left one option - he was there to train the boy. Close on the heels of that realization came the epiphany that Reborn is the one you send to train your _actual_ heirs, not the one you send to keep up appearances. Tsuna had the general appearance of a pitiful decoy, but for the presence of Reborn himself.

 _There_ must _be something I’m missing_ , Viper hissed privately, _the child must have_ some _kind of potential beyond what is visible. Even_ Reborn _can’t make miracles happen._

-=-=-=-=-

Squalo breathed out a sigh of relief when he stepped back onto Japanese soil. It felt like coming home, for all that the land itself was completely foreign to him. The private jet he’d borrowed for the trip hummed behind him and a few more people followed him to the ground.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Xanxus on his private line. He didn’t want to risk the Cervello’s interference (or interference from Vongola High Command), but he still had to check in. The line rang twice and picked up.

Silence answered him and Squalo took that as a good sign. Deciding to be courteous, he spoke in his guests’ mother tongue, “We’re back, Boss.”

Xanxus’s gruff but amused tones answered him almost immediately, _“Any complications?”_

“Everything went to plan, just like the snake said,” Squalo replied cryptically,  subtly letting Xanxus know which approach he’d deemed most appropriate. “How are things with you?’

 _“The snake has been unreachable since your departure, buried in research and intelligence gathering all day, as usual,”_ Xanxus laughed but Squalo easily picked up a few points of tension. _“No major changes have been made to the plan, but the snake keeps scowling and muttering about contingencies, so I wouldn’t bet on the status quo.”_

At that, Squalo couldn’t suppress a wave of sharp laughter, “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” He sobered and straightened, knowing he was reaching the safe time-limit for the call, “If something relevant changes, you know how to reach me.” Before anything else could be said, Xanxus grunted and ended the call.

The guests Squalo had been sent to retrieve had deplaned while he was on the phone and were giving him calculating looks. Finally breaking the silence, the man asked brusquely, “So, where’s this conflict taking place?”

Squalo had to suppress a smile at the curious glances now openly thrown their way by the staff of Namimori airfield; It wasn’t every day that they played host to foreign guests. The Rain Guardian sneered at the gawkers and turned back to answer the visiting delegate, “The local middle school.”

The man scoffed, “How young _is_ this challenger?”

“He’s practically a _baby,_ ” a feminine voice echoed derisively from one of his companions.

Instead of answering, Squalo risked a furtive glance to gauge the man’s reaction. The sharp expressions he saw flickering there were a poor match to the man’s easy-going demeanor. He was reminded again that these people represented a very lucrative alliance opportunity, and they were just as much _Mafia_ as Squalo himself was. He’d nearly forgotten on the flight over; with their polite manners and luxurious surroundings, they seemed more like a set of nobility than formidable leaders of the Chinese underworld.

He gestured subtly to the SUV that was waiting for them and it approached smoothly. The driver opened the rear doors for them and they slid into the seats. Squalo breathed deeply as they pulled away from the airfield. It had been a very long day away from his Sky, but he had done the job well and he knew his efforts would be worth it.

They'd made sure of it. After all, no Varia operation was ever executed without extensive assurances that they would succeed.

-=-=-=-=-

Chrome didn’t need anyone to lead her to the arena, she already knew where she was expected thanks to what Lord Mukuro had already told her.

As she had lain dying in the hospital bed, a voice had come to her; a dark angel sent to save her. There wasn’t much to be afraid of, lying in that endlessly white room, except for death. And when nothing else was left for her, a mysterious man had spoken into her mind and returned hope to her. He hadn’t had to ask for her to leave her family behind, she’d made that decision herself. Nothing mattered beyond Lord Mukuro. No-one else she knew had cared that she was going to die.

Lord Mukuro taught her many outlandish and magical things, but they were all quite plain in comparison to the life-saving miracle he had performed for her in the hospital. As she improved and became more aware of her powers, she also felt Lord Mukuro’s presence more keenly. Sometimes their connection would flare with power as he taught by example, sometimes it would fill with words. Mostly it just hummed silently beneath her breastbone, and Chrome loved every minute of it.

She didn’t understand much about her connection with Lord Mukuro, and worse: she didn’t even understand much about Lord Mukuro himself. Occasionally, she could feel his focus drifting and Chrome would feel a sharp pull. When it happened, it pulsed through her nerves, radiating from that spot just beneath her heart that connected her to Lord Mukuro. She could feel a keen focus and a vague sense of duty that didn’t quite belong to her, but Chrome felt it strongly nonetheless. Soon she began to think of it as her own. If Lord Mukuro had a duty and she could help him fulfill it, then it was her duty as well. More than that: she felt it could be a way to connect to Lord Mukuro, to show him her gratitude, to be closer to him – so she might understand what he felt and why.

So when he finally spoke about a boy in her town just about her age, Chrome nodded and smiled. She was a little jealous of Lord Mukuro’s focus on the boy, but she decided it was okay as she was the only one with such a special connection to Lord Mukuro. Besides, he had given her new life and whoever he was interested in was therefore certainly worth her own attention as well.

She was about to join a fight that wasn’t hers, Chrome understood that quite well, and she only knew the two charming delinquent boys beside her. Despite all that, the young Mist felt more confident than she had in ages. Standing at the entrance to the school gymnasium with Lord Mukuro’s friends at her side, she pushed open the door and set about fulfilling her duties.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried posting it sooner but Viper’s section did not want to cooperate with me at all... -_-° The good news is that in the struggle, I managed to work out the rough shape of the next (couple of) chapters. I’m hopeful to return to a schedule something like what I began this story with now that real life has settled somewhat and I’ve made this story a priority again ^_~*


End file.
